


the build up (lasted too long)

by cursive



Category: NU'EST, Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mentions of Blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-05 09:21:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12791538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cursive/pseuds/cursive
Summary: Team Pink Sausage plays matchmaker. It goes terribly wrong until it doesn't.





	the build up (lasted too long)

**Author's Note:**

> ah yes here i am with more pointless inane fluff oneshots don't mind me

Woojin knew exactly where he had failed when he walked into the Clean Men (and Jaehwan) room, after ten minutes of pathetically wandering around the kitchen doorway, only to give up seconds before going inside. Jihoon descended from his bunk without even using the staircase, landing heavily on his socked feet, and went at his throat in no time.

“Did you ask him?”, he deadpanned as he crowded up Woojin’s space, caging him against a wall; his face was expressionless, but the twitching of his hands where they gripped at the front of Woojin’s shirt in an attempt to intimidate him gave away his impatience.

It worked; one glare quickly had Woojin looking away, flustered and annoyed as he cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I didn’t. How was I supposed to bring that up? It’s not exactly a light subject, you know.”

Jihoon’s face remained emotionless. He tightened his grip on Woojin’s shirt. “You’re that scared to ask, huh?”

“I’m not!”, Woojin groaned and tried to wiggle his way out of Jihoon’s space. “It’s hard to find the right time and place for that.”

He shrugged, hoping his excuse was convincing enough; for Jihoon, it wasn’t. “He’s alone in the kitchen right now, you know. No one’s gonna come in because they know he’ll ask for help drying the dishes and all the hyungs are lazy fucks who know he’ll do it himself if no one else does”, Jihoon rambled, a bit too angrily, then paused, looking suddenly calm again. “Anyway, it’s the perfect opportunity. Why aren’t you going there now?”

Woojin’s lips twisted into a scowl, and he shook his head quietly. “I can’t do that. Minhyun hyung has always trusted me not to pry.”

“So you _are_ scared”, Jihoon teased.

“Am not!”, Woojin screeched indignantly ( _no wonder his voice can go that high_ , Jihoon pondered).

It was loud enough to wake Guanlin up from his much-needed afternoon nap; Jihoon gave Woojin a guilt tripping look that screamed _look what you’ve done, you woke up the baby_. “What’s going on, hyungs?”, the youngest asked innocently, fumbling for his glasses on his improvised bedside table made out of stacked suitcases.

“We could always have Guanlinie ask”, Jihoon mused, a smirk forming on his lips. “He would never say no to us.”

Woojin’s eyes widened, and he grabbed onto Jihoon’s arms before he could move away. “Leave Guanlinie out of this.”

They stared at each other in silent defiance; it was pretty obvious to both of them Jihoon was only using Guanlin for leverage, and that he would not actually _ask_ the maknae nor make him do anything like that on their behalf, but Woojin still wanted to make it a point that he would never allow him to, anyway.

Jihoon was the first to look away, this time, rolling his eyes. “ _Fine_ , I’ll do it myself. You’re useless.”

He pried himself off of Woojin’s hands, ignoring the dumbfounded look the younger was giving him. “A-are you sure?”, Woojin asked, still hovering around him warily.

“Hyungs?”, Guanlin tried again, sitting up on his bed.

“Go back to sleep, Guanlinie, it’s nothing”, Jihoon told the maknae in a _jeojang Jihoon_ voice, walking out of the room with Woojin tailing him. He turned to his fellow Team Pink Sausage member, now in full _dorm Jihoon_ mode. “Someone here has to take matters into their own hands if those two aren’t willing to. We’re surrounded by _cowards_ , Woojin, you included.”

Before Woojin could protest, Jihoon walked away, hovering by the kitchen entrance to watch Minhyun do their lunch dishes to the sound of his own humming. Jihoon tried to guess the song (they tended to change drastically according to Minhyun’s mood and he had to be very precise in gauging exactly how much Minhyun would humor him that day), amused but not surprised when it turned out to be, once again, _Marry Me_.

It was safe, in Minhyun language, so Jihoon went for it, quietly approaching the elder before encircling his arms around his waist in a warm back hug. “Hi, hyung”, he greeted him in full _jeojang Jihoon_ fashion, tightening his grip on Minhyun when the elder’s chuckle reverberated in his chest.

“Something wrong, Jihoon-ah?”, Minhyun asked, not stopping his cleaning for a moment; Jihoon felt slightly annoyed that his hyung’s attention didn’t seem to be _entirely_ on him, but he tried not to let it show.

“Nothing”, he chirped, burying his face between Minhyun’s shoulder blades. _Nice and warm_ , he thought, bracing himself for the question he was about to make.

Minhyun hummed, rinsing a plate and carefully putting it on the dryer, movements slower in consideration for the boy currently clinging to him. “Wanna help, then? I wash, you dry.”

The younger groaned, unmoving; Minhyun laughed, muttered a _well I tried_ under his breath before they fell silent again.

Jihoon waited.

Soon enough, Minhyun was back to humming a song ( _Galaxy_ , Jihoon quickly figured out, this time; _maybe hyung should add some variety to his repertoire_ , he thought), carefully washing a glass cup, one of the last few dishes remaining inside the sink.

Jihoon briefly wondered whether he and Woojin weren’t being too invasive with their intervention; being _close_ with Minhyun didn’t exactly mean they should snoop into his life like that. They _had_ seen too much, Jihoon figured, enough to warrant that intervention before anyone else grew as frustrated as the two of them with the complete lack of a clue from both parties involved.

That game of push and pull, out there for all the members to watch in mild disgust as no actual move was ever made, was getting too exhausting. All the touching, the joking around, the way Minhyun would look at him while everyone else could see them, the way _he_ would look at Minhyun when he thought no one else was looking because, well, he had a reputation to maintain, it seemed, and it drove Jihoon _crazy_.

He had to put an end to this, by either squeezing an answer out of Minhyun or beating up one out of _the other coward involved_.

( _respect your elders, dorm Jihoon_ , jeojang Jihoon internally scolded himself)

“Hyung”, Jihoon finally tested the waters, deciding to go for it once Minhyun hummed again, sounding receptive. It was now or never. “Are you in love with Seongwoo hyung?”

The cup in Minhyun’s hands shattered when he smashed it against the sink.

xxx

“I hope you’re happy”, Woojin muttered angrily as he sat down beside Jihoon in the couch; scattered around the living room, the others (namely Jinyoung, Guanlin, and Daehwi) sulked on their respective seats, worry etched on their faces. “What did you even say to him?”

Jihoon sank further into the couch, pointedly ignoring the redness in his hands and sleeves where he tried to hide them by crossing his arms. Woojin sighed, realizing he would have to try to pull Jihoon out of his funk. “You should at least wash your hands. They’re gonna be back soon and Minhyun hyung’s gonna be disappointed to see you don’t keep yourself clean.”

“It’s _Minhyun hyung’s_ blood”, Jihoon reasoned, voice incredibly whiny even for jeojang Jihoon. “It’s as clean as it could possibly be—”

“First of all, gross”, Woojin retorted, making a face at Jihoon’s crossed arms. “And you’re freaking Daehwi out—”

“He’s not”, Daehwi quipped, shrugging. “I mean, I’ve seen a little blood before—”

“ _Shush_ ”, Woojin ordered him, making a face when Daehwi seemed like he would insist; their silent stare-off lasted for a few seconds before Daehwi rolled his eyes and huffed, going back to cuddling a very distressed Jinyoung. Woojin fought the urge to roll his eyes back at the younger out of pettiness before turning to Jihoon again. “C’mon, let’s wash your hands. He’ll be fine.”

Jihoon didn’t move, so Woojin had to forcibly pull him up; he complied after some struggle, still looking as devastated as he had back in the couch, and walked with Woojin to the bathroom. To his credit, Woojin was very calm about the entire situation despite his anger, trying to be gentle as he pried Jihoon’s hands out of the crook of his elbows, turning on the tap and guiding them steadily towards the water stream. Jihoon did the rest of the job by rinsing his hands, washing off as much dried blood as he could before soaping them up and continuing his work. At one point, Woojin pulled his sleeves upwards so they wouldn’t get wet, and Jihoon shot him a grateful look before focusing again on scrubbing the blood off his fingernails.

“You’d think I murdered Minhyun hyung with my own hands”, he deadpanned, not really inclined to actual joking just yet. “I just asked a question.”

Woojin hummed, pulling the hand towel off its hook to have it ready for when Jihoon was done. “What did you even _ask_ him, anyway? I mean, we never settled on the exact question—”

“I asked him if he was in love with Seongwoo hyung”, Jihoon replied, faster than intended, doing his best not to wince when Woojin’s eyes widened in shock.

Woojin gaped at him. “I—Just like that?”

Jihoon nodded, turning off the tap once he decided he would have to find other ways to scrub the blood off from _under_ his fingernails. “Just like that.”

“And what—what caused all _that_?”, Woojin then asked incredulously, handing the towel to Jihoon.

“He got startled, I guess”, Jihoon reasoned, wiping at his forearms, careful to avoid the still bloody sleeves of his sweater, despite the blood on them having already mostly dried up. “He kind of—kind of punched the sink while holding a cup.” He sighed when Woojin said nothing. “I expected that sort of dramatic reaction from Seongwoo hyung, not him, to be honest. Wasn’t that why we decided to ask Minhyun hyung first?”

Woojin shrugged; they fell into uncomfortable silence soon afterwards. The younger seemed to have something to say, but he remained quiet until Jihoon finished drying his hands up. He put the hand towel back in place before taking his sweater off, the thin shirt he wore underneath no longer enough to keep him warm while they still weren’t cranking the heater up in the dorms.

As they left the bathroom, walking towards their own room instead of the living room, Woojin spoke up again. “Look—Minhyun hyung may be open about his affections, but I don’t think he was ready to—I don’t know, to face _that_ reality?” He rubbed the back of his neck, a habit all of them seemed to be picking up from Seongwoo, these days. “I think we went about it the wrong way.”

Jihoon laughed incredulously, throwing his bloodied sweater on top of a pile of crumpled clothes in a corner of the room ( _Clean Men Room was no more_ , Minhyun would have lamented, disappointment coloring his voice) before walking up to their shared dresser. “You _think_? Woojin, I have Minhyun hyung’s _blood_ on my hands—”

“You talk like he died, though”, Woojin retorted, slightly amused despite their situation. “It’s just a few stitches.”

“I’ve _scarred him for life_ , Woojin”, Jihoon lamented dramatically, frowning when Woojin laughed. “There’s absolutely nothing funny about that.”

Woojin begged to differ. “You’re being too dramatic.”

Before Jihoon could get back at him (or just smack him in the head like he truly intended to), they heard a click coming from the front door, and immediately scrambled out of their room to properly greet Minhyun. It turned out that the rest of the maknaeline had had the same idea, and before they could bump into each other or cause a mess in the hall, they were stopped by Jisung’s hands and disapproving stare as he stood in front of a slightly amused, yet still a little too pale, Minhyun.

“ _Behave_ ”, Jisung warned them when they all stopped in their tracks, short of running over him. “It’s just a few stitches but the blood loss is still there so don’t make him dizzy.”

Woojin shot an _I told you_ look to Jihoon that went completely ignored.

“Don’t crowd him”, Jisung chided Jinyoung and Guanlin when they immediately occupied the empty spots by Minhyun’s side once they filed in to the living room.

“Hyung”, Jinyoung asked quietly, looking at Minhyun’s bandaged hand full of worry. “Does it hurt?”

“ _Did_ it hurt?”, Guanlin asked as well.

Minhyun chuckled, shaking his head as they clung to his arms and guided him towards the center couch. “A little, but don’t worry about it. Jisung hyung was there to hold my good hand while they patched me up.”

“The things I’ve seen”, Jisung shuddered from his spot on the other couch. While the younger boys kept on pestering Minhyun over his injury, he turned towards Team Pink Sausage, who watched the exchange with mirrored guilty looks in their eyes. “Are Niel and Seongwoo back yet?”

Woojin shook his head; Sungwoon and Jaehwan emerged from Sungwoon’s room to greet Minhyun, both looking at his hand like they had just seen a ghost. For a fleeting moment, Jihoon thought he should find their reactions at least a bit funny, but he had felt just as scared when he saw it happen, if not more.

It took him a moment too long (and a sharp nudge to his side from Woojin; he would have to retaliate, later) to notice Minhyun beckoning him closer, patting the now empty spot beside him on the couch ( _Jinyoung, go get him some water_ , he vaguely heard Jisung tell the other boy). There was a tiny apologetic smile on his face, enough to make Jihoon lurch forward and nearly throw himself on the elder’s arms, way too close to _real crying_ to his comfort.

( _Park Jihoon, real crying for a hyung_ , he thought bitterly. _Only Minhyun hyung could do that_ )

“Careful!”, Jisung chided him, but Minhyun just waved him off with his good hand, allowing Jihoon to tuck his head under his chin and hide his face on his fluffy sweater. Swallowing back his tears and his pride, Jihoon started to ramble.

“I’m so sorry, hyung, I didn’t mean to—”

“Jihoonie”, Minhyun quieted him, holding him closer with one hand while keeping the other at a safe distance from the younger. “It’s okay”, he whispered, “I’m sorry, too. I think I may have… overreacted.”

 _Just a little_ , Jihoon was tempted to retort, but instead he nuzzled closer to his hyung, clutching at his sweater. He felt cold. “I don’t blame you, hyung. I’m sorry I asked that.”

Minhyun ran his good hand through Jihoon’s locks, placing a kiss on his temple; Jihoon only sighed, desensitized to the excessiveness of Minhyun’s affections at that point. _You’re no fun_ , he remembered the elder telling him the first time he got a full kiss to the cheek and didn’t even blink. ( _And you won’t even kiss me back!_ )

“It’s okay”, Minhyun repeated. Jihoon closed his eyes, relaxing a little when Minhyun started rubbing soothing circles on his scalp. “I thought about your question a lot during my trip to the hospital, though.”

Jihoon’s eyes immediately opened; he immediately locked eyes with Woojin, who nearly fell off of his perch on the other couch beside Daehwi. No one else seemed to be interested in their conversation, too busy listening intently to Jisung’s hospital tale and borderline graphic description of the stitches Minhyun received. Their reactions ranged from mildly fascinated to downright horrified ( _poor Jinyoung_ , Jihoon thought fleetingly), and Jihoon was well-aware Minhyun’s attention was on him, and his possible reaction.

“O-oh yeah?”, he asked, as nonchalantly as he could, given the situation (being a good actor doesn’t always mean _acting well at all times_ , really), trying to tell Woojin with his eyes to _fucking calm down_ and pretend he wasn’t eavesdropping on that very private yet cryptic conversation.

Minhyun nodded. “Yeah. I’d never given that much thought before. it was good to reflect on it a little.” He paused, his hand also pausing its movements on top of Jihoon’s head. “I think I have your answer.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, hyung”, Jihoon was quick to clarify. “It was an invasive question, anyway—”

“But I want to”, the elder insisted, firmly yet gentle. Jihoon looked up at him, “I have to admit, though, I never thought that you’d—”

The front door opened with a bang, cutting Minhyun’s words off and also interrupting Jisung’s stitching spiel. Seongwoo’s voice boomed from the hallway, almost startling Jihoon out of Minhyun’s arms.

“Where is he?”, he asked, stopping in his tracks once he made it to the living room and spotted Minhyun’s head peeking out of the sofa seat. “Minhyunie?”

He briskly walked closer to where everyone sat, a concerned-looking Daniel trailing after him. Stopping in front of Minhyun and Jihoon, he quickly crouched in front of them, eyes searching Minhyun in his entirety somewhat frantically.

“Minhyunie”, he started, blindly reaching out to gingerly touch the brunette on his legs, torso, arms, face, slapping Jihoon out of the way more than once. “Manager hyung—he said you’d gotten hurt and had to go to the hospital, I thought—”

“We were so worried”, Daniel added from behind Seongwoo, a little calmer once he spotted Minhyun’s bandaged hand, which Seongwoo seemed to have completely overlooked ( _what the hell_ , Jihoon thought, dumbfounded at the elder’s sudden touchiness towards Minhyun; that wasn’t _their Seongwoo_ ). “But you seem to be better now, right, hyung?”

“I am”, Minhyun replied with a smile, staring amusedly at Seongwoo. “It was just a cut to my hand, Seongwoo-ah. You don’t have to worry that much.”

“Yeah, everyone kind of made a big deal out of it”, Sungwoon said with a chuckle. “Jihoonie here was acting like Minhyunie had _died_ or something.”

“Hey”, Jihoon protested, sulking back into Minhyun’s arms. “I felt responsible.”

Seongwoo frowned, then pulled at Jihoon’s arm. “Out of the way”, he ordered the younger, yanking him upwards. Before Jihoon could even resist, he found himself standing up, and Seongwoo suddenly occupying his spot on the sofa. “How did it happen?”, he asked the elder, completely ignoring the boy he’d just kicked out of his seat.

“That was my—“, Jihoon muttered under his breath; as he opened his mouth to protest, however, he noticed something very interesting; Minhyun’s ears were growing red.

Minhyun shot the younger an apologetic look, smiling tight-lipped at Seongwoo when Jisung started to explain things on his behalf. Seongwoo’s attention, however, remained on Minhyun, reaching forward to pull his injured hand between his, uncharacteristically gentle.

Jihoon and Woojin exchanged curious glances before Jihoon plopped down by his side on the other sofa.

“So you smashed a glass with your bare hands”, Seongwoo said, still cradling Minhyun’s injured hand between his. “Dumbass, what did you do that for?”

“Hey, I got startled”, Minhyun laughed, trying to explain himself. “By—a bug.”

Jihoon scowled. “I’m _not_ a bug—“

Woojin quickly shut him up by shoving a hand in front of his mouth. “Don’t throw them off”, he muttered angrily, nodding with his head at their hands; Seongwoo was slowly bringing Minhyun’s hand upwards. “Things are happening.”

 _Finally_ , Jihoon said against Woojin’s hand, but it only came out as a muffled _mmphph_ that he knew Woojin would understand, anyway.

 _Do you think he’s gonna kiss hyung’s hand?_ , Jihoon asked Woojin with his eyes.

The look he received in return told him everything. _That would be unsanitary._ A response that was as Woojin’s as it was Minhyun’s, really.

“You’re not afraid of bugs, though”, Seongwoo deadpanned, narrowing his eyes at Minhyun, who only blushed and laughed at being caught in his lie.

“You know me well”, Minhyun said, his smile almost making his eyes disappear. “Jihoon caught me by surprise, but it wasn’t his fault, really. I was clumsy.”

Jihoon made his best kicked puppy face, which was a little difficult with Woojin’s hand still firmly clamped over his mouth; Seongwoo barely spared him a Stern Hyung Glance before turning his attention back to Minhyun. _If all it took was getting Minhyun hyung hurt we could have done it a long time ago,_ he waggled his eyebrows at the younger.

“Fucking _shut up_ ”, Woojin reprimanded him. Jihoon only shrugged; he _was_ silent, after all.

Seongwoo narrowed his eyes, unwilling to let it go. “Was that all, really?”

Minhyun shrugged, too flustered to muster a proper response. Jihoon was having a blast; Woojin was very close to smacking him on the head. _My impact_ , Jihoon thought triumphantly. “There’s nothing more to add to the story, no.”

Seongwoo frowned in confusion. “You’re a terrible liar”, he mocked the elder, smiling at him anyway. “I’m glad you’re alright, though.”

It was a disgustingly sweet moment, in Jihoon’s opinion, when Seongwoo grabbed Minhyun’s good hand and squeezed it, careful not to rustle the other hand too much in the process.

“I think our job here is done”, Woojin whispered to Jihoon, finally letting go of his mouth; neither could pry their eyes off what was unfolding right in front of their eyes.

“Not yet”, Jihoon shook his head. “I’m kinda curious to see what Seongwoo hyung’s gonna punch when he finds out.”

“His own face, I’d hope”, the younger muttered, pulling at Jihoon’s arm when everyone else but the four of them started to scatter out of the living room once Jisung was done dramatically retelling the stitching story.

(granted, Jinyoung still hovered around in hopes Seongwoo would let go of Minhyun any time soon, but he seemed inclined to give up and leave, by now)

They stood up as well; Jihoon flung an arm around Jinyoung’s shoulders, gently prying him away from the living room.

“Do you think they’ll figure it out when we leave them alone?”, Woojin asked, genuinely curious.

Jihoon shrugged. “I don’t know, we might have to make him visit the hospital, too.”

“What are you guys even talking about”, Jinyoung deadpanned just as Woojin screeched disapprovingly at Jihoon.

Jihoon gently shushed him. “Nothing to worry your sweet little head over, Jinyoungie.” Swerving the boy towards a kitchen stool, the two older boys sat him on it before walking out of the kitchen. “C’mon, Woojin, we have a murder to plan.”

Woojin scowled at him. “You should probably word these things better.”

“Come up with a better plan than mine and I might”, Jihoon pouted, slightly pulling Woojin back towards the living room. “But I think we won’t need one.”

They stopped on their tracks at the sight, Jihoon smiling and Woojin squinting in suspicion. On the couch, Seongwoo had let his head rest on Minhyun’s shoulder, and in turn Minhyun’s head was leaning against his as they had seemingly decided to catch up with some drama or another on TV.

“Who’s the genius now?”, Jihoon asked in a hushed voice, nudging Woojin’s side.

The younger scrunched up his nose. “Your methods were… dubious, at best.”

“But effective!”, Jihoon winked at him before they slowly stepped back to allow the older men some privacy. “C’mon, dinner’s on me tonight.”

“Dinner’s on _Jisung hyung_ tonight”, Woojin corrected him.

Jihoon shrugged. “At least pretend I’m treating you until we’re allowed to go, like, to a barbecue place or something. This was another good job by _Team Pink Sausage_ , I think we should really celebrate.”

At the mention of meat, Woojin finally seemed convinced. “Fine. I’ll hold you to that.”

xxx

“They really didn’t catch on?”, Seongwoo asked Minhyun, gently stroking his good hand.

“Not at all.” Minhyun laughed, nuzzling Seongwoo’s hair. “I mean, they _knew_ something was up, but they never put two and two together.”

Seongwoo tilted his head to look up at the brunette. “So they just think we like each other?”

“They think they’re setting us up together.”

“Yet you smashed a cup when Jihoon put you on the spot.”

“Hey, I was surprised he’d finally figured _something_ out!”

“Sure”, Seongwoo laughed, pulling Minhyun closer. “And what was your answer?”

Minhyun pursed his lips. “I never answered him in the end, but you know what it would have been.”

“I know, but let me listen to it”, Seongwoo insisted, letting go of Minhyun’s hand to snake an arm around his waist. “Tell me.”

“You’re too much”, Minhyun grumbled, fighting a smile.

“You love it.”

“Yeah”, the elder rolled his eyes, entwining the fingers of his good hand over Seongwoo’s hand, unwilling to let go. “I love you, idiot.”

Seongwoo keened, nosing affectionately at Minhyun’s neck. “And when are you telling them?”

Minhyun glanced at the doorway, trying to find a glimpse of the boys among the others frolicking around the dorm. “I don’t know”, he lets out a small laugh, “before or after they try the same with you?”

The younger gasped indignantly at Minhyun. “And have them try to murder me to make me see the light and realize I have feelings for you or some shit? Those kids are _dangerous_ , you want me dead, I knew it.”

Minhyun laughed, loud and vibrant, placing a kiss on the top of Seongwoo’s head. “I promise I won’t let them hurt you. We’ll tell them tomorrow.”

Seongwoo seemed appeased. “Good. Wouldn’t want to be dead two times over in this group, that’s no fun.”

“Shush”, Minhyun admonished him playfully. “Pay attention, we’re missing out on important plot stuff.”

“Says the one who _never_ shuts up”, Seongwoo jabbed back, but quieted down anyway. He looked forward to trolling Team Pink Sausage back the next day.

**Author's Note:**

> unfortunately i can't give you your time wasted on reading this back but you can come insult me @ my [twitter](http://twitter.com/worldwidehndsm_)


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